The Ballad of God-Makers



A bird flew out at the break of day
   From the nest where it had curled,
And ere the eve the bird had set
   Fear on the kings of the world.

The first tree it lit upon
   Was green with leaves unshed;
The second tree it lit upon
   Was red with apples red;

The third tree it lit upon
   Was barren and was brown,
Save for a dead man nailed thereon
   On a hill above a town.

That night the kings of the earth were gay
   And filled the cup and can;
Last night the kings of the earth were chill
   For dread of a naked man.

‘If he speak two more words,' they said,
   ‘The slave is more than the free;
If he speak three more words,' they said,
‘The stars are under the sea.'

Said the King of the East to the King of the West,
   I wot his frown was set,
‘Lo, let us slay him and make him as dung,
   It is well that the world forget.'

Said the King of the West to the King of the East,
   I wot his smile was dread,
‘Nay, let us slay him and make him a god,
   It is well that our god be dead.'

They set the young man on a hill,
   They nailed him to a rod;
And there in darkness and in blood
   They made themselves a god.

And the mightiest word was left unsaid,
   And the world had never a mark,
And the strongest man of the sons of men
   Went dumb into the dark.

Then hymns and harps of praise they brought,
   Incense and gold and myrrh,
And they thronged above the seraphim,
   The poor dead carpenter.

‘Thou art the prince of all,' they sang,
   ‘Ocean and earth and air.'
Then the bird flew on to the cruel cross,
   And hid in the dead man's hair.

‘Thou art the son of the world.' they cried,         `
   ‘Speak if our prayers be heard.'
And the brown bird stirred in the dead man's hair
   And it seemed that the dead man stirred.

Then a shriek went up like the world's last cry
   From all nations under heaven,
And a master fell before a slave
   And begged to be forgiven.

They cowered, for dread in his wakened eyes
   The ancient wrath to see;
And a bird flew out of the dead Christ's hair,
   And lit on a lemon tree.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 12, 2023

2:02 min read
96

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABCB DADE DFXF AGHG EIEI XCXC XEJE HJXJ EKXK XLXL XMXM XNMN XGXG XIMI
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 2,006
Words 414
Stanzas 14
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4

Gilbert Keith Chesterton

Gilbert Keith Chesterton was an influential English writer of the early 20th century His diverse output included journalism philosophy poetry biography Christian apologetics fantasy and detective fiction Gilbert Keith Chesterton KC*SG was an English writer, philosopher, lay theologian, and literary and art critic. He has been referred to as the "prince of paradox". Time magazine observed of his writing style: "Whenever possible Chesterton made his points with popular sayings, proverbs, allegories—first carefully turning them inside out." more…

All Gilbert Keith Chesterton poems | Gilbert Keith Chesterton Books

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1 Comment
  • jesseh.81812
    I only wish that the last line was more explicit. It's seems Christ has resurrected, but it still says dead Christ rather than live Christ. "Live" would be less nuanced but first readings make one question. I think the point is that Christ rises again. 
    LikeReply1 year ago

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"The Ballad of God-Makers" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 Nov. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/15987/the-ballad-of-god-makers>.

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